


Excogitation

by magickus



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Asphyxiation, Biting, Blood, Bruises, Dirty Talk, Glove Kink, Hand Jobs, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Kinda, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Manipulation, Marking, Masochism, Original Character(s), Outdoor Sex, Semi-Public Sex, very light but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21995197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickus/pseuds/magickus
Summary: The Warrior of Light struggles with new revelations and what they may change. Emet-Selch is as unhelpful as usual.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 1
Kudos: 83





	Excogitation

**Author's Note:**

> thrilling new installment of my wol boinks all the hot boys: bad idea edition. i have the plague so forgive incoherent fever ramblings

The moon hung low in the sky, casting its soft glow between the weaving branches of massive trees, shadows scattering on the forest floor far below.

Claran and the Scions bested another Lightwarden and freed the Greatwood from the unending strangle of Light. The exhaustion from the endless onslaught of trials weighed heavy on Claran's shoulders. The other Scions slept in their rooms at Slitherbough, taking their much-earned rest. Claran wished desperately to join them, but he couldn’t sleep. 

The things Emet-Selch told them still stirred in his head. Despite the burning in his eyes and the ache in his limbs, he could not bring himself to sleep with all this uncertainty. He warred with it for hours before stealing away to think under the moonlight.

He doubted everything. It warred inside him.

"Out for a moonlit walk?"

A sly voice startled him from his thoughts. Claran jumped, shoulders hunched to his ears, and whipped around to find Emet-Selch watching him. His expression was as impassive as ever, one eyebrow quirked upwards in a suggestion of skepticism.

Claran inhaled and turned away again. "You could say that," he mumbled.

"You  _ really _ must speak up. It is impossible to understand you when you sound like a mouse."

Claran's face grew hot. He hugged his arms and stared at the grass beneath his feet. "S-sorry."

Emet-Selch sighed. Claran heard his footfalls, almost silent, as Emet-Selch approached him. His grip tightened on his arms. Emet was possibly the last person he wished to speak with right now. But, perhaps…

"Are you giving me the cold shoulder?" Emet-Selch asked, amused. "And here I thought we were finally getting along."

"We are," Claran said hurriedly. He turned back towards Emet-Selch, meeting pale yellow eyes for a brief moment before he focused instead on Emet's jaw. "I-I'm still grateful for what you've done for us… I just…"

Emet-Selch quirked a smile. "Having doubts, are we?"

Claran flinched as if Emet-Selch had struck him and turned his head away. "I don't… I don't know what to think anymore," he said. His voice shook. "I have been doing all this for the greater good, for the Light, for Hydaelyn, but is that even… have I been doing the right thing? Am I even supposed to— is this  _ me? _ Or am I just a puppet? I-I just wanted to help people but the Light has ruined this world. W-what if I destroy my own trying to save it?"

Claran let out a shaking breath and lowered his head, clutching his hair between his fingers. It was too much to think about. A thousand questions came up, one after the other, leaving him shaken. He didn't know what was true anymore. He didn't want to be used again.

"Perhaps," Emet-Selch drawled. "Perhaps all your fears are correct and you are at the whim of an ancient being of Light, on course to bring destruction to the world you hold so dear. Perhaps everything you believe in is a lie. We are all the heroes of our own story, after all, and the villains in someone else's.  _ Everyone _ wishes to use your power for their personal gain, hero. Especially Hydaelyn."

Claran lifted his head. If Emet-Selch was trying to comfort him, it wasn't helping.

Emet-Selch took a step forward. Claran stepped back, the trunk of a massive tree stopping his retreat. Emet stooped to better meet his gaze. Claran trembled, trapped. Emet-Selch's eyes were ancient. "Be that as it may, will you continue to allow the ambitions of others dictate you? Or will you finally grow a spine and forge your own path?"

Claran tensed. He searched Emet-Selch's eyes. "Is that not what you're trying to do now? Manipulate me?"

Emet-Selch smiled, his eyes narrowing, predatory. "And if I am? What will you do, Warrior of Light? Will you continue to be what others expect of you?"

Claran opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words. He shrank back, pinned. Emet-Selch took another step forward and loomed over Claran. Was this some sort of test? Did Emet-Selch expect him to do something  _ now? _ Forge his own path, make his  _ own  _ decisions. Emet-Selch stared at him expectantly, his shadow blotting out the moon, casting Claran in dark. His eyes seemed to glow.

He heard a whisper of desire in the back of his head, one he would usually squash and ignore, but now… well. He went off the beaten path.

He grabbed the fur-lined lapel of Emet-Selch's coat. A flash of surprise crossed Emet-Selch's face, before Claran hauled him down and crashed their mouths together.

Emet-Selch clasped Claran's shoulder to stop himself from toppling over. It was… good, somehow. Dry. Emet’s lips were chapped and cold. Claran furrowed his brow, holding him tight, pressing their bodies flush together. Emet-Selch tensed, unresponsive to the kiss, and a sliver of fear wormed its way in. Claran pulled away abruptly, their lips parting with a wet sound. Emet-Selch stared down at him in a rare expression of shock that he quickly smoothed away.

"S-sorry," Claran gasped. He slapped a hand over his mouth. "I-I'm sorry, that was… I shouldn't have—"

He made to pull away, but Emet-Selch wound an arm around the small of his back and kept him locked in place. Gloved fingers wrapped around Claran's wrist and forced his hand away from his mouth.

"That was quite unexpected," Emet-Selch purred. Claran's face grew hot beneath Emet-Selch's scrutiny. "And inappropriate. I never thought you capable of such a thing— with an  _ Ascian  _ no less."

The hand on Claran's back moved up, sly fingers slipping beneath his shirt and roaming along his skin. Claran sucked in a breath and shivered, his insides flipping as Emet-Selch pressed his palm between Claran's shoulder blades. Emet-Selch teased the notches of Claran's spine, watching him closely. His eyes narrowed. "You have chosen your path, Claran. I wonder just how far down the rabbit hole will you go."

Claran squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. Emet-Selch released his wrists and took hold of his chin instead, forcing Claran to look at him. He had acted on pure impulse and hardly expected anything to actually come of it, but Emet-Selch called his bluff and stared at him unblinking, fingers dancing along his spine, waiting for him to concede.

If Claran had not ached so powerfully for him, he would have admitted defeat. His need outweighed all voices of reason in his mind. He let himself be selfish.

"Give it to me."

Emet-Selch chuckled darkly. "By your leave." His grip tightened around Claran's jaw and he pulled him forward, kissing him again. It grew as Claran sank into it, his arms coming up to wrap around Emet-Selch's shoulders. An insistent press of Emet-Selch's lips bade Claran open his own, a gasp of air filling his lungs as Emet's tongue slid hot into his mouth. Emet-Selch kissed expertly, seeking out all weaknesses and exploiting them. Scraping his teeth against Claran's lip earned him a soft noise of approval, goosebumps crawling along his flesh. Emet-Selch took his lip and bit down hard enough to draw blood and Claran shook. His mind fogged up with heat, his body ached. Emet-Selch soothed the wound with his tongue and drew away, red on his teeth.

"I am not at all surprised that you are a masochist," Emet-Selch whispered. Claran shivered at the tickle of his voice in his ear. Emet-Selch grabbed him and twisted him around, pressing him against the tree, caging him in with his larger form. His hand moved down, palm pressed between Claran's legs, rubbing firmly as he dragged his nails hard down Claran's spine. Icy-hot pleasure sparked in his gut and Claran moaned helplessly, reaching behind him and pawing at Emet.

"I will grant you the satisfaction you desire, hero," Emet-Selch said. His hand dipped into Claran's trousers and took firm hold of his hard cock. Claran quaked. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, swiping over the pulsing bite. Claran tasted copper and something else, something bright and  _ burning _ .

Emet-Selch slowly pumped his hand and Claran moaned, loud, his voice echoing in the quiet stillness of the night. Emet's glove dragged against his flesh, too rough and too hot, but it was dirty and  _ good. _ "Fuck," Claran hissed. He pressed his face against the tree, panting open-mouthed.

"Such a foul mouth on you," Emet teased. His wrist twisted around Claran's head, making him see stars. "And so loud. The whole forest will hear you at this rate. And wouldn't  _ that _ be a sight for your Scions, watching you rut into my palm, giving yourself over to your sworn enemy. But you  _ love _ that, don't you?"

Emet-Selch dipped his head down, tongue dragging against Claran's neck. His words pulsed through him, filthy and depraved and exactly what Claran needed. He had no hope of lasting like this, not when the release he so desperately craved danced just out of reach. His hips twitched forward, jerking into Emet's palm, gloves slick with precum. He whined and Emet-Selch's free hand slithered to his throat and gripped too tightly. Claran's breath stopped, a weak moan escaping him.

Emet-Selch laughed. His thumb pressed against Claran's slit and rubbed. "You’re close, aren’t you?” he teased. “I can feel it. Come," he commanded, and Claran eagerly did so. A bright burst of heat flared up beneath his skin, pleasure coursing molten through his veins. Claran shook with it, gasping for air as Emet-Selch's grip grew tighter around his throat, his vision fogging around the edges. He knew Emet-Selch could kill him without a second thought and couldn't bring himself to care.

The pressure loosened and Claran sagged against the tree, gasping and coughing. His blood roared in his own ears, his pulse pounding in his aching throat. Emet-Selch removed his hand from Claran's pants and clicked his tongue.

"Such a mess," he said. Claran summoned enough strength to glance over one shoulder, watching as Emet-Selch carelessly discarded his soiled glove. He caught Claran's gaze and smiled pleasantly. "This certainly was an enlightening experience for us both. I hope I was able to assist you adequately, hero."

Claran blinked slowly. He glanced down the length of Emet-Selch's body. "That will not be necessary," Emet said. "This was for you. Perhaps another time, if you feel so inclined, I could indulge this promiscuity once more."

"Please," Claran agreed. Emet-Selch smiled and leaned forward, kissing him again. It was warm and soft, unlike anything Claran expected of him. There was something like longing behind Emet's lips and Claran feared that they had gone too far.

"Do not forget what you have learned tonight. If you can make the right decision again, then, perhaps…"

Emet's bare fingers brushed over Claran's forehead. He felt a spark and then nothing, senses dulling as he was lulled into an enchanted sleep. A blink of darkness passed and in the next moment Thancred was shaking him awake, urging him to get ready to begin the next leg of their adventure.

Claran sat up, groggy and disoriented, mulling the possibility that his encounter was a very vivid dream, but Thancred's gaze landed on his throat. His brow furrowed. "Where did you get that?"

Claran reached up and pressed his fingers to his throat, against the bruise colored into his skin. It ached. "From the temple," he lied, smothering a blush. "I'll be fine, Thancred. It will fade."

Thancred shrugged and left with only the slightest suspicion. Claran sighed and wrapped his fingers around his throat, mimicking Emet's grip. He squeezed briefly, but found it wasn't quite the same.

He would have to refresh the mark properly before it went away.


End file.
